


Drabbles & Request Fills

by PenguinTrippin



Category: Big Hero 6 (2014)
Genre: Drabbles, I'm Sorry, M/M, hidashi, mostly a bin for shorter prompt fills and drabbles of mine ;u;, short things?, warnings specific to each drabble
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-05-13
Updated: 2015-05-19
Packaged: 2018-03-30 07:47:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 1,063
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3928732
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PenguinTrippin/pseuds/PenguinTrippin
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Collection of Hidashi drabbles & shorter prompt fills from tumblr.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Height Difference

**Author's Note:**

> I'M BACK kind of
> 
> I've been collecting a bunch of drabbles and stuff over on tumblr - I've finally decided to chuck the drabbles and some of the shorter request fills on AO3 yolo

Puberty, Hiro thinks, is really not fair.

_‘I’ll show him,’_ he’d always thought as a kid. Sure, Tadashi towered over him for much of his life, but Hiro would hit his growth spurts and one day, he’d be the one doing the towering. One day, he’d be the one dangling gummy bears just _barely_ out of his brother’s reach, grinning smugly down in triumph.

Six years later and Hiro is quite reluctantly sure that he is never going to get past 1.72 meters tall. And well, Tadashi, of course, still has a healthy 8 centimeters on him that he never hesitates to use to his advantage.

Like that one time Tadashi just had to put the cookie jar on the highest shelf of the kitchen, when he _knew_ that Aunt Cass had just made Hiro’s favourite white chocolate chip macadamia nut cookies. He had the audacity to snicker, damn him, when Hiro pouted and whined and attempted to swindle Tadashi into getting the tantalizing jar of cookies down already _or so help me god._ When the sweet waft of melting chocolate and vanilla extract became too much for him, Hiro had clambered onto the counters in desperation, limbs playing an awkward game of limbo with the shelves as he strained one shaking hand towards the jar. And Tadashi, the ass, had flat out laughed at him.

Hiro’s more than a little frustrated at how Tadashi refuses to bend down even the slightest bit when Hiro tugs on his jacket sleeve, gesturing pointedly at his brother’s lips with a tilt of his head and a quirk of an eyebrow. Hiro has to take matters into his own hands then, often resorting to nearby counters, chairs, and boxes just to brush his lips against Tadashi’s. (Hiro had tried going on his tip-toes once. He had nothing to show for that apart from sore toes and a crick in his neck for the rest of the day.)

Hiro has to refrain from jamming his fist into his brother’s stomach when he feels – every goddamn time, without fail – Tadashi’s lips curve upwards beneath his.

But sometimes, Hiro’s okay with being shorter. Its times like now, when Hiro is fitted neatly against Tadashi’s chest, his brother’s throat vibrating in content humming against his forehead, that Hiro feels at peace. Its times like now, when Hiro’s tucked into the nook of firm arms that encircled his waist, blankets rumpled around them, Tadashi’s warmth lulling him towards the enticing tug of sleep, that he’s truly happy with the way things are.

Sometimes, Hiro doesn’t mind being shorter at all.


	2. Nobody Asked You for Help, Kiss Cam

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Non related hidashi, aged up Hiro

Trust the infamous and completely, utterly useless Kiss Cam to throw his day – his long awaited 18th birthday, _damnit!_ – into the deep end.

Hiro had taken one look at the enlarged screen – the words Kiss Cam bedazzled unabashedly with glittering rose petals, pink heart flashing gaudily around him and this (undeniably good-looking) asshole who was sitting next to him, looking politely bemused – and immediately shot his arms in a broad X. Ignoring the hoots and whistles that erupted all around him _(jerks,_ why can’t they mind their own business), Hiro shook his head wildly, mouthing, “I don’t know him, we’re strangers, we literally don’t know each other _stop yelling you imbeciles –”_ Breaking off from his fruitless attempts, the teen gesticulated helplessly at the stranger, who was now watching him with one eyebrow cocked in distinct amusement. “Damnit man, help me out here!”

“Tough luck kiddo,” he heard someone snicker from behind him.

All frazzled nerves and wounded pride, Hiro whipped around, snarling, “Look asshole, I’m not a –” He paused, feeling someone tug at his shirt. “Uh, what exactly are you doing?”

The stranger next to him – unfortunate Kiss Cam victim #2 – smiled apologetically back at him, his lips lifting upwards crookedly. “I’m sorry,” he offered in a smooth baritone, warm brown eyes earnest.

Then promptly caught Hiro’s lips with his own.

 _‘Okay, so maybe this isn’t so bad,’_ Hiro mused as he tangled one hand into the stranger’s short locks of hair and the other into the soft fabric of his cardigan, their breaths intermingling to the uproarious cheers of the crowd all around them.


	3. Photographs

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> **A/N:** Death mention, brotherly

Tadashi had always taken photos of Hiro liberally, to the point that Hiro’s learned to duck every time he hears that god forsaken _‘say cheeeese!’._ His brother has a sizable stash of photos of Hiro: Hiro with his eyes squinting, his cheeks fluffed up with too much rice; Hiro sleeping, curled tightly around the plump mound of fluff that is Mochi; Hiro batting at the camera lens with foamy toothpaste dribbling down his chin. They’re all tucked neatly into designated flaps of a plain, unassuming album that is slipped quietly into the drawer of Tadashi’s desk.

He’d once asked Tadashi why he kept so many photos. His older brother had smiled ruefully at him and asked, “Do you remember what Mum and Dad look like?” When Hiro shook his head no, Tadashi had continued wistfully, “Me neither. Mum’s eyes were green, and Dad had the kindest smile, but I can’t remember much else than that. But here –”

Tadashi flipped the photo album open, the pages falling open in a cascade of vivid colours and memories. “I can see that you have stupidly messy hair,” he ruffled the mess of curling inky strands, “a real small nose,” he tugged at the bridge of Hiro’s button nose, eliciting a small indignant squeal from the boy, “and a stubborn tooth gap that just won’t close up,” he hooked his pinkies into the corners of Hiro’s mouth, before pulling up.

Tadashi had laughed heartily when Hiro scowled around his brother’s fingers, words garbling nonsensically as his small hands swatted insistently at Tadashi’s much broader forearms.

A year later, as he sat in a storm of shattered glass and ripped bedsheets, scattered slivers of paper fluttering around him like drifting snow, Hiro wishes he had more than the fading scent of herbal tea and croissants to remind him of what he’s lost. He wishes Tadashi’s bed weren’t so cold, he wishes textbooks would litter his brother’s desk once again, he wishes that familiar rumbling laugh would fill the silence.

He wishes that he had thought to fill the second half of the album with photos of Tadashi’s smiling face, instead of the torn sad remnants of his own.

He wishes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> don't mind me just doing a bunch of consecutive uploads

**Author's Note:**

> I'm over on [tumblr](http://www.trippin-those-penguins.tumblr.com), come holla at me brotha


End file.
